Non-X Holiday Party
by Maelstrom
Summary: Holiday fic. What happens when you get a bunch of non-X characters together? ;)


Disclaimer: Absolutely silly-fic, disregarding characterization (hey, that's the point of a silly-fic, right?), also disregarding lots or all of continuity here, just too many for me to keep up with. :) Superman, Batman, the Flash, etc, all belong to DC. Tintin, Captain Haddock, etc, all belong to Herge. Impedimenta, Geriatrix, etc, belong to the Asterix The Gaul comic (forgot the name of the publishers, sorry!) :). Sinister belongs to Marvel. 

Non-X Holiday Party 

by Maelstrom 

Impedimenta looked around with a satisfied smile. Her holiday party was a success. The food was exquisite, the decorations marvellous, and her husband was even being courteous enough not to punch Green Lantern in the face as they talked politics. *This is so much better than that horrible X-Party they have down the block,* she thought contemptuously. All the guests were mingling about with each other, dutifully repeating the same old routine: "Hi! How are you? Oh my gosh, you look terrific, what have you been doing with yourself? You *must* tell me your secret, dear." 

Impedimenta glanced at the speaker, Wally West, a.k.a. the Flash. His conversation partner was Superman, dressed in his new lightning-blue costume. Supe smiled and puffed out his chest. 

"New fashion consultant," he explained. "Lois's idea -- you know how picky she is about how I look when I go out to save the world. You'd think that she'd have other things on her mind besides clothes, but noooooo. Anyway, Estella - that's the name of my consultant - changed my entire color scheme. Would you believe, red *so* clashes with my skin tone? I never realized that until she told me. And to think that might've been the REAL reason why Lex Luthor keeps laughing at me. . ." The Flash nodded sympathetically, and Supes went on, "She then redesigned my new wardrobe, see, blue with white is so much more soothing to the eye. Electric's in, undies and cape are out. Did a total makeover on me." 

"Oh yes, it really is you, Supey. Just *screams* out, 'Superhero!' You look fabulous. Spandex?" 

"Naturally, spandex is *always* in. Here, why don't I give you her number?" 

"You're a doll, Supes!" 

Impedimenta felt a tap on her shoulder, and turned to see a pair of extremely well-toned thighs in front of her face. She sighed -- such was the downside of being four-feet-short. She looked up to see the ever-so-much-taller Fairchild glancing down at her. Fairchild had gotten into the holiday spirit too, 'Pedimenta noted, as she glanced at the redhead's tight, sequinned, spaghetti-strapped dress that just barely grazed the tops of her thighs, leaving very little to the imagination. 

*Well,* 'Pedimenta conceded, *not much of a difference from her everyday attire anyway, the way her costumes keep ripping off at the slightest hint of battle. That child should learn to choose more durable clothing, it's almost as if she WANTS that much skin exposed. . .* 

Fairchild was trying to get her teammate Grunge to stop groping up her dress as she told the shorter woman, "'Pedi, your husband's at it with Capt'n Haddock again. The Capt'n refuses to let go of his whiskey bottle." 

Impedimenta groaned and thanked Fairchild, who nodded back before turning around and slapping Grunge in the face. His eyes lit up as he took this meaning in a kinky way. Impedimenta sighed, shaking her head and wondering what the younger generation was coming to as she made her way towards her husband. She noticed that Geriatrix, the dirty old man, was eyeing Catwoman in her tight costume, chuckling to himself everytime she leaned over the buffet table, in the process allowing Geriatrix to get a more intimate view of her chest. 

Suddenly Batman appeared right next to him, in that same silent, mysterious way he always used whenever entering or leaving a crime scene. People often credited this skill of Batman's, claiming that he was as silent as a mouse but as graceful as a cat. 'Pedimenta chose to believe that he just knew how to pick the best non-squeaky shoes. The Flash had introduced him to this particular brand, he being an expert on the subject, since he of all people knew how hard it was to run faster than the speed of light and have *skwee-skwee* sounds with each step. It kinda grates on one's nerves after a while. 

Anyway, Batman cleared his throat, choosing to announce his appearance this time. The last time he'd snuck up on someone during a holiday party without giving them prior notice, he'd ended up patroling Gotham with a split lip for a week. Not a very nice thing to endure when dodging knives and bullets from baddies. Plus it didn't do his reputation much good either. 

"Back off," he said, in That Low Masculine Batmanish Voice of his. "She's not available." 

"Doesn't have to be," Geriatrix grinned. 

Batman scowled and reached for his utility belt, where he usually kept his most secret, handy, ingenious gadgets with him. Things such as sleeping gas, acid pellets, binoculars, night vision contact lenses, band-aids, and two condom packets. Hey, even superheroes play safe. Pay attention, kids. 

Anyway, he was reaching for the belt, but was stopped by Nightwing who came up behind him. "Temper temper, Batman," he said, wagging his finger at the Dark Knight (who scowled even harder, but let's face it, since when does Batsy every smile?). "Remember, this is Impedimenta who's hosting the Non-X Holiday Party this year. She wouldn't like it if it were ruined just because of a little spat." 

"Who, me, spat?" Batman put on an innocent look, and naturally, failed miserably at it, 'cause no one can ever picture Batsy looking innocent, just as no one can ever picture him playing peekaboo with a little baby. It just isn't him. 

"Yes, you, spat," said Nightwing patiently. "That *was* the pollen-dust compartment you were reaching for in your belt, wasn't it? Intended to set off Geriatrix's pollen allergy?" 

". . . Nooooooo. . ." 

Catwoman looked up, cross. "Really, boys, behave. You know how picky 'Pedi is about having her parties go right! You mess this up and she'll make you clean up after the party, Dark Knight or no. She won't care if you have to save Gotham from being blown up by the Joker for the 1,689th time, you'll have to wash the dishes anyway. Besides," she sniffed, taking out her whip, "I can handle myself just fine." 

Geriatrix's eyes lit up at the sight of the whip, and Batman resisted an urge to lunge at him. Nightwing sighed and pushed Geriatrix in the direction of Fairchild, who was having enough trouble fighting off Grunge as it was. Just then Rainmaker passed by, and caught sight of Catwoman bending over the buffet table. She instantly brightened and approached the feline queen. "Why hello, dear," she smiled, "what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" 

Catwoman stared at her blankly. Nightwing sighed and leaned over. "Um, Cats, this is Rainmaker. Rainmaker, this is Catwoman." 

"Pleasure, I'm sure," Rainmaker smiled seductively. By now Catwoman was thoroughly confused. 

"Uh, are you all right?" she asked. 

"I don't know," Rainy batted her eyes, "why don't you give me a li'l check-up? I know an empty guestroom upstairs." 

Nightwing heaved a breath before whispering discreetly in Catwoman's ear, "She's. . . uh. . . the other way inclined, if you get my drift." 

"Oh." she said. Then her eyes widened. "*Oh.*" She quickly looked at Rainmaker. "Uh, sorry, girlfriend, not interested. Took a vow, am remaining celibate." 

"Aw," said Rainmaker, disappointed. 

"Man!" said Batman, crestfallen. 

Catsy shot him a look, but Rainmaker's attention was distracted by the Sailor Scouts passing by in their tiny microskirts of theirs. Her eyes gleamed as she instantly made her way towards them, and Catwoman breathed a sigh of relief. 

Just then the front door burst open, and everyone gasped as they saw Mr. Sinister standing there, a wrapped green present in his hands. 

"Happy holidays!" he cheered. 

"AARGH!" everyone screamed. "GET HIM!" 

"Hey, wait - oof - ow - no, listen - please, Grunge, don't touch me there -" 

"EVERYONE BACK OFF!" 'Pedimenta roared. Everyone instantly obeyed, because hey, let's face it, she may be short, but she had one heck of a temper. Especially on the years when she had to host the holiday parties. Sinister just managed to get to his feet by the time she stormed over to him, and he held the present out for her. 

"Happy holidays?" he greeted hopefully. 

She grabbed him by the collar and jerked him down to meet her eye-to-eye. "What are you doing here?? This is a Non-X party! Read: Non-X! Which part of that don't you understand?" 

"But I'm not an X-person!" he protested. "I'm an enemy! Not an X at all!" 

"That's no difference, you still appear in their adventures!" the little woman growled. "By those standards you're definitely an X! And you know the rules -- no Xers in this party! Isn't it enough that they already totally dominate the comic scenes as well as loads of comic mailing lists? Now they have to infiltrate *our* holiday parties! We won't stand for it, I tell you, we won't!" 

"They have their own party down the block," Freefall sniffed resentfully. "Snotty things, thinking they're such an elite bunch, sticking X stuff all over the place." 

"Yeah," Superman agreed. "You just march in with an S symbol and whoa, people stare at you like you're some sort of geek!" 

"Actually, they may have a point," said the Flash. "Your Estella ever consult you about your choice of cologne?" 

"The point is," Impedimenta scowled, "that this party is for non-X only. We're mounting a rebellion against those mutants, and you're one of them, so why don't you head on down there instead?" 

"But I don't *wanna* head on down there instead! I wanna stay here with you!" Mr. Sinister broke down and bawled. "Waaaaaa! I have no friends! It's not *sob* fair! They don't *sob* want me in their *sob* X party 'cause they *sob* hate me! They say *sob* that it's because *sob* I always perform sick experiments on them, but it's not fair! I just *sob* want to produce a superior race, there nothing wrong with that, is there?" 

"Awwww, poor baby," Poison Ivy sympathized. "I know exactly how you feel. I want to get rid of humans and just have plants rule the world." 

Batman shot her a glare. 

"And it's not *sob* just that," Sinny went on, accepting a few Kleenexes from Sailor Mars. "I'm even *sob* lambasted in fanfic! You *sob* wouldn't believe *sob* the kind of abuse I get over there-re-re-re. . ." he bawled. 

"At least *you* are written in fanfic," Tintin pouted. "Big old mean guy with pasty skin. Me, I'm a star reporter who uncovers world-shattering news, and have a cute talking dog to boot, but no one *ever* wants to hear about me, nooooooo. . ." 

"Point," a few of the guests murmured in agreement. 

"But you don't understand!" Sinister cried. "I'm portrayed so - so - so demeaningly! Why, just the other day, I got written as running a cleaning service! A *cleaning* service, for heaven's sake! Maraud-A-Maid, oh, the humility! And fanfic writers laugh at me, saying that I sing soprano in the shower! I do not, I sing a very masculine tenor! And, and just recently, I was written as being down with the flu! Me, Mr. Sinister who messes with genetic DNA and stuff unable to cure myself of a simple flu! Do you know what this does to my reputation?" 

"You ever had a split lip, pal?" Batman challenged. 

Fairchild stepped forward. "Hey, let's have a little pity on the guy. It *is* the holidays after all." 

Sinister's eyes nearly popped out as he gazed at that tiny excuse of a dress. Impedimenta huffed and said, "Oh all right, just this once. Come on, boy, have a little eggnog. Fairchild, take him over to the buffet table. Superman, get an extra chair for him. Sailor Moon, help me in the kitchen as I -" She stopped and looked around. "Sailor Moon? Where is she?" 

"Um," said the Joker, "I just saw her go upstairs with Rainmaker. They were saying something about one-hundred-and-sixty-nine positions, anyone have any idea what that means. . .?" 

The End 

Sick, I know ;). Feedback is welcomed, please be gentle. :) 


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